Christian's Last Song
by pokemypocky
Summary: Takes place right after Christian finishes his story. Now that it's finished, will he be able to move on with his life? Better yet, does he have any regrets?


_**I do not own "Moulin Rouge!" or any of the characters in this story,**_

_**Nor do I own the song "I Would Have Loved You Anyway" by Trisha Yearwood**_

"**Christian's Last Song"**

Finally, it was almost finished, Christian thought as he wrote down the very last part of his story.

_"… Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. And then, one not so very special day, I went to my typewriter, I sat down and I wrote our story. A story about a time, a story about a place, a story about the people. But above all things, a story about love. A love that will live forever. The end."_

He placed the final page of his manuscript on the pile next to his typewriter. Finally, his story was finished, his promise kept. His beloved Satine could now finally rest in peace.

Christian looked around at his garret, where his decorative wall paper was actually drafts of each page his had written. You couldn't even see the walls anymore. Next to his bed was a night stand, where several empty bear bottles were standing, some of them on the floor. The last year of his life had taken a toll on him. After Satine died, Harold Zidler struggled to keep the Moulin Rouge open, but to no avail. Without Satine, the magic that was once there had vanished.

The Duke left Paris and had moved to England, where he lived alone for the rest of his life, which did not last for very long. He had drank himself to death six months earlier. A life without love was truly terrible, even for him. What kind of a man was he if he couldn't even get a courtesan to love him? Maybe that's what he was thinking…

Christian stood up from his desk and walked into the bathroom, where he ran some cold water into the sink and splashed it on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. His once delicate and innocent features were now rugged and full of sadness. His eyes were reflecting that of a broken man who had consumed far too much bear. Not even absinth could make him feel better. And yet, only the thoughts of his happy time with Satine kept him going. He walked out of the bathroom and stared down at his manuscript.

_**"If I'd've known the way that this would end, if I had read the last page first…"**_

He recalled the night when Spectacular, Spectacular first opened. His argument was Satine had been carried out onto the stage. He remembered how he almost walked away from her forever, even though he still carried so much love for her in his heart.

_**"If I'd've had the strength to walk away, if I'd've known how this would hurt…"**_

He walked over to his window and stared out at the old closed down Moulin Rouge and sang his heart out.

_**"I would've loved you anyway. I'd do it all the same. Not a second I would change. Not a touch that I would trade. Had I know my heart would break, I'd've loved you anyway."**_

He walked over to his manuscript and caressed the page on top of the pile. He knew that when he published it, he would have to help promote it. He would have to help promote his happy/sad/traumatic moments at the Moulin Rouge with Satine. There may even be occasions where he would have to read it aloud at book signings. Did he really want to relive that whole experience?

_**"It's bittersweet to look back now at memories withered on the vine. But just to hold you close to me for a moment in time…"**_

He marched over to the walls and started tearing down each page that had been tapped up. His story was done. He didn't need his references anymore. As he thought about it more and more -- as he took down each page, he realized that every time he thought about it, it was so hard to relive that whole experience. He went from calmly taking down each page to ripping them off the walls in a violent manner. Tears streaming down his face as he continued to sing.

_**"I would've loved you anyway. I'd do it all the same. Not a second I would change. Not a touch that I would trade. Had I known my heart would break, I'd've loved you anyway."**_

Piles of papers were on the floor by the time he was finished. At that moment, a gust of wind blew through his open window, blowing the papers here and there. He watched as the papers were blown over to the doorway. He gasped when he saw her. There she was, Satine! And yet, he could see right through her. No, she wasn't really there. She was just a beautiful fragment of his memories. She reached her hand out to him and whispered, "Tell our story Christian."

He reached out to her in response, yet he did not move from where he was standing.

_**"And even if I'd seen it coming, you'd still've seen me running, straight into your arms…"**_

With this, he made his decision. He marched back over to his desk and picked up the pile of pages, containing his story. He walked over to his window as another gust of wind blew. It blew a few pages of his manuscript off of the top of the pile, but he didn't really care. He held the pages out the window, allowing the wind to carry them. Within seconds, his story was floating in mid air. This was his way of sharing his story with the world, without having to relive it. Now, he could move on and never look back, unless he was thinking about the wonder time he spent with Satine -- time that he would never trade for anything in the world. Once again, he looked down at the Moulin Rouge. Standing in the doorway was a transparent image of Satine. She looked up at him, smiling and nodding her head before disappearing once more. Christian looked up at the sunny sky and sang one last time.

_**"I would've loved you anyway. I'd do it all the same. Not a second I would change. Not a touch that I would trade. Had I know my heart would break, I'd've loved you anyway."**_

**oOo**

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return…

**oOo**

**The End**


End file.
